Inhale. Exhale.

It is okay. Although, it never is.

Have you ever felt as if the world is moving on, however you are on a standstill? Everyone is moving forward, however you cannot go on. Not even one inch.

It has been days. Weeks. Months. That I woke up. My memory was hazy. Mom went missing, I remembered. And afterwards, there were shards of memories. They were just under the surface, but I just could not pull them in front of me. Always out of touch.

The art institute called me. They were impressed with my audition, I remembered. They offered me a scholarship. However, I had never accepted it. I just don't remember, when or why. It was such a great opportunity, however I never responded, they said. I was off the grid.

However, I do not remember how or when or what happened.

Doctors told me that I suffered amnesia. Probably because of trauma, as I also had a couple of scars, I couldn't explain.

There were so many things I couldn't explain. My heart had a hole, I couldn't fill.

Despite the hole, I tried to live my life. I picked off where I left off. I called the art institute and pleaded for a chance. They gave it to me. I applied for jobs. I wrote college essays.

I was living a mundane life. It never felt quite right. But everything was doing the same thing. So, it must be just in my head. Right?

People tell me, I am over analysing. I need to get my mind out of my head. Live a little.

Was I not doing that already?

But life, still, did not feel totally right.

I was always missing something. Or someone.

There were times, I would turn around, because I had the feeling that someone was watching over me.

I remember a time, where I crossed the street sending a text to a colleague. And suddenly I was across. As if, someone picked me up and moved me with super human speed to the side walk.

I missed a car.

Looking over the city from my balcony, I had the feeling as if the view was not quite right. A deja vu, as if the view was distorted and I was seeing it from an angle I was just not familiar with.

A friend invited me for a self defence workshop. It was my first time. And I kicked the instructors ass.

I didn't know I had the power to fight. But apparently I did. I was suprised. But also not.

I went on dates. My type was blonde tall and muscular. We talked. We hugged. We kissed. But it was never right.

My whole life was so mundane. I never felt really… alive.

Shadows followed me everywhere. And no matter how hard I turned on the lights, they were never really gone.

I missed him. I knew I did. I just did not know who he was.

So, I picked up the brush and I painted.

I painted doors. I painted hallways. I painted shadows. I painted tattoos. I painted hands. I painted eyes. Blue and brown.

"Most of my works are abstract. it is like I have these feelings and stories inside that are trying to surface but I cant quite make em out. so the closest I can do is paint the feelings."

And then I saw him. Standing in a leather jacket across the art room. He was looking intense. My heart burned. Deep inside there was voice whispering urgently, go to him. He is the one.

And so I walked. With every step, the fog was slowly lifting from my mind. With every step, the hole I had inside was slowly closing.

With every step, my heart began to sing louder.

"Hi," I said.

His eyes widened. He looked around. He blinked as if he was not sure if I was real. His body tensed, ready to flee.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you," I apologised.

"You can see me," his voice cracked. I felt a burn in my soul. As if angels were nearby, heaven was blessing us.

"Of course, I can see you." I told him.

He turned around and walked away.

Not again, my heart screamed.

So I sped after him. I grabbed him by his arm.

Without a thought, I flung my arms around him.

This felt right. This was right.

My heart healed. My mind was clearer than ever.

"Jace," I said.